The Art of War
by The Sith Virtuoso
Summary: All is fair in love and war, and Master Kenobi and the Duchess Satine are definitely suiting up for a battle of their own making! My own adaptation of certain events seen in Clone Wars Season 2, Episode 13 ("Voyage of Temptation"). I hope you enjoy, and reviews are most appreciated. Obitine One-Shot. Complete. Originally published in the Star Wars movies category.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: One of the moments that turned me around about the 2008 Clone Wars series is how it revealed that right old Obi-Wan has had quite a history with a certain Duchess. They did have great chemistry while it lasted and the Force knows where they might have gone if The Clone Wars was aimed at a more mature audience.**

 **I also loved the tongue-in-cheek nod to Moulín Rouge in their storyline and Satine's very name.**

 **This is my first try in a romantic comedy setting (with extra cheese, if I might say so), so I do appreciate reviews for future stories I might write in the same spirit. -SV**

* * *

 **THE ART OF WAR**

 _I've got a bad feeling about this..._

* * *

Having finished up their instructions to the troopers, Anakin Skywalker boarded the turbolift with his former Master.

He took a glimpse at Obi-Wan and saw the older man with an uncharacteristic expression on his face.

Then Anakin noticed the Jedi Master fidgeting with his beard.

It was as if his Master was anxious.

The Jedi Knight reflected for a moment and swore that he could count in one hand the number of times he had seen Obi-Wan anxious.

And never in those times did it bide well afterward.

"I sense some anxiety from you about the Duchess.," he inquired, "She couldn't be in safer hands."

"Yes, I know." Obi Wan replied rather tersely without looking back.

 _Alright...what was that about?_ Anakin thought, his curiosity piqued.

"Then...why?—"

"Never mind," the Jedi Master sharply cut him off, "It's...all in the past."

 _Wait...what?_

Anakin's feeling of foreboding was replaced by something else entirely.

He was secretly thankful that Obi-Wan Kenobi was far too preoccupied with his own thoughts to mind those of his former apprentice's.

 _Oh, this is going to be good!_

"Oh!" he said casually while attempting to fight a smirk, "So...you're close to her,"

"I knew her," and this time, Obi Wan turned his head with an indignant expression—and flush—on his face, "A long time ago."

Even while the Jedi Knight was sniggering cheekily inside, he knew perfectly well what his old Master's thoughts were definitely saying;

' _I've got a bad feeling about this...'_

* * *

The turbolift ride had only been a few minutes, but Obi-Wan Kenobi felt like it had lasted hours.

Days even.

They parted badly only a few days past but _she_ was all he could think about.

 _There is no emotion, there is only peace..._

Obi-Wan tried to focus on _that_ particular tenet of the Jedi Code...did he really leave behind those feelings when he was younger?

He was sure he did...but then those same feelings had come back to life with incredible vigor in the days since he had once more visited her.

Obi-Wan would swear in later years that he had never been quite this confused.

Walking through the hallway leading to the chamber where the Duchess Satine held her retinue, he was still lost in thought, failing to recognize his one-time apprentice's barely concealed expression of amusement.

Then he heard her voice issuing through the hall, and the breath caught in his throat.

"— _I am going to oppose it as an affront to life itself!"_

It was a voice that was both music and torture to his ears. It also brought him back to the present just as they entered the hall.

"As the designated regent of fifteen hundred systems, I speak for thousands of worlds who have urged me to remain neutral in this war."

Yes, there she was...standing atop a small cushioned podium looking every bit as regal as a sovereign should be.

 _And every bit as perfect as the first day I set foot on Mandalore..._

He shook _that_ thought aside and only then did her words irritate him. Or did they?

He wasn't quite sure if he had to be honest.

 _Then again...getting under my skin_ is _one of her many talents..._

Can't she understand what they were trying to do for her?

"And yet some might argue that the strongest defense is a swift and decisive offense," he rebutted as his entourage entered the room.

His voice called her attention, and she regarded him with an amused, if sanctimonious little smile.

"You _are_ quite the general now, aren't you, Master Kenobi?" she teased.

The way her eyes glittered his way even as her smile turned into a small frown felt like a blaster bolt straight to his heart.

 _Damn these courtesies_...

He had the most peculiar urge of deciding whether or not he wanted to strangle her where she stood or kiss her there and then.

Not to mention he could already feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat underneath his robes.

He was sure that he'd rather take on an entire droid army bare-handed at that very moment than attempt to lock horns with her.

 _Satine...why are you making this so hard for me?_

And yet...somewhere deep inside—the part of him that was making him giddy all over— he understood that he _wanted_ her to.

For a woman who claimed to be pacifist, she sure knew how to get someone in the mood for a fight.

* * *

"Forgive me for interrupting, your Highness. I meant no disrespect," his deep, smooth voice said.

 _The nerve of m—_ this _man!_

She tried to be indignant and was deeply thankful that nobody could read her thoughts; after all, they had nearly said 'my _man'_ instead of ' _this man'_.

Her heart was still skipping a few beats when he entered that room to rebut her.

Bold and brash, just as Satine remembered him in the days of their youth; now they were older, maturity only added to his charm.

Was that why she was feeling the same way when they were but lovesick teenagers?

"Really?" she replied, steadying herself, "Senators, I presume you're acquainted with the collection of half truths and hyperbole known as Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Only when she said those words did she realize just how much she was willing to believe in those half-truths and hyperbole; moreso since she _knew_ the man behind the myths.

And that she was _part_ of those myths.

 _In more ways than one,_ she thought dreamily, trying to fight back a mischievous, nostalgic smile.

"Your highness is too kind..."

 _Obi-Wan—_ Ben _! Please stop. I don't want to do this right now—oh you—_ even when he tried to be sarcastic and though she knew he had always been oblivious to it, he had _always_ succeeded in charming her as her broken string of thought would attest.

The Duchess then paused for a moment; maybe there _was_ a way she could...ease the tension.

She hoped he remembered so she turned away, trying to hide the bait that was the rosy flush on her own cheeks, "You're right, I am".

* * *

When Satine had fallen silent after that last tirade—from shame or exasperation, he didn't know—Obi-Wan decided to defuse the tension.

It was as much an unspoken apology to her as it was a means of saving face.

But Obi-Wan had sensed something different and yet familiar and decided to pry further.

"Allow me to introduce my fellow Jedi, Anakin Skywalker."

"Your servant, my Lady," his former apprentice said with a respectful bow.

"I remember a time when Jedi were not generals but peacekeepers," she piped up seemingly absent-mindedly while taking a drink from one of the attendant droids.

 _Satine...must you complicate things so much?_

 _..._ but Obi-Wan could not help but feel a fresh, invigorating feeling of admiration for her resolve.

Then again, he'd had plenty of that in the past few days— _and in those years before,_ he recalled with a guilty rush of relish—and as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted more...

Anakin's voice interrupted his thoughts, "We are protectors, highness; yours at the moment. We fight for peace."

"What an amusing contradiction," the Duchess scoffed without even looking at them.

If he were a lesser and younger man Obi-Wan would have cried out _Oh no you didn't!—_ an expression of indignation that has since become all the rage in the younger populace.

He could feel in the Force that she too was feeling uncomfortable and... _flustered_ by his presence.

Obi-Wan then felt a long-forgotten feeling of playfulness rise within him along with a few recollections of their history together.

A realization hit him and he stopped himself from brandishing a smirk.

 _I do hope you remember, my dear..._ two _can play at this game._

* * *

"What Master Skywalker _means_ is that we are acting at the behest of your Highness," the Jedi Master spoke up a little too politely, "To protect you from the Death Watch and the Separatists who don't share your neutral point of view."

The Duchess cried in indignation, "I asked for no such thing."

She did not miss that fleeting moment when Obi-Wan cocked his eyebrow slyly at her and fought away the urge to bite her lip.

It was as if their teen years were just yesterday...

 _Oh, you handsome devil...Ben—my Obi-Wan, so you_ do _want to play._

"That may be so," he spoke in that delicious baritone of his while stepping forward, "but the majority of your court _did_."

As far as she knew, Satine was the only one to ever get his fiery side to come out.

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered, and though she was no novice to his game, she was oblivious that the entire court had set their wholehearted attention to their little duel.

Regardless, she enjoyed playing with fire, just like the way she did in years before.

"I do not remember _you_ as one to hide behind excuses," she taunted, attempting to bait him.

Neither were really attempting insult...they understood each other that much.

Obi-Wan glared back, "I do not remember _you_ as one to shrink from responsibilities."

She was amused despite the affronted face she presented and was sure that her Ben was feeling the same way.

After all, they had not seen each other for years...and there _was_ a war going on.

It was about time they blew off some steam.

The Duchess had to stop herself from giggling.

 _Perhaps in more ways than one if this keeps up!_

* * *

It might have continued for hours; a dance of words and jibes, concealing the teasing and the toying behind their raised voices—had not a certain Senator decided to intervene.

"I am certain we all agree," the obese Twi'lek Senator Orn Free Taa gesticulated, "Duchess Satine and General Kenobi have proven there are two sides to every dilemma."

 _SHUT. UP._ Both Obi-Wan and the Duchess thought irritably.

"Indeed," Senator Tal Merrik's sanctimoniously chortled.

If only Obi-Wan could shoo everyone out of the room save for Satine...

 _Stop speaking you—our_ moment _is being ruined!_

But the great Rutian Twi'lek was impossible to stop; not to mention totally oblivious to the real nature of their charade.

"Now...in regard to the Senate vote... _we_ think—" Orn Free Taa continued.

"I think a multitude makes discord," The Duchess barked, secretly hoping that the corpulent Senator would get the point and shut up, "Not good counsel."

 _This is a 'battle' between_ me _and_ Ben _. You_ already _count as a multitude, Senator Taa, and that's not yet counting the rest!_

"Right again, my Lady." Senator Taa echoed, a sycophant to the last.

The Duchess clenched her jaw in ill-concealed disgust and irritation.

 _Politicians..._ thought Obi-Wan.

Satine had to take a swig of her drink to stop herself from pouting the way she did during those happy, bygone years whenever she was displeased with him.

* * *

In love and war, there are no holds barred.

Satine and Obi-Wan had definitely let theirs go that the other understood—now if only the crowd would leave them be...

And so Obi-Wan and Satine found themselves currently on the losing side. Their mutual fire was fizzling out of existence just as suddenly as it had been born.

 _Think!_ Obi-Wan gritted his teeth in frustration, _You call yourself a Jedi Master?_

There _might_ be a way for them to resume that lovely little dance of theirs.

"There might be two sides to every dilemma," he seemingly spoke to his former apprentice, "but the Duchess only favors _hers_."

He ensured that his voice was loud enough for her to hear.

"A Republic military presence is the _only_ sure defense against the Separatists."

 _Come on, Satine...don't disappoint me!_

* * *

That definitely got her going.

Standing to her full height—and seeing the Jedi Master's blue eyes widen momentarily to behold her—her spirit was back without further ado.

The Duchess exclaimed, "Even extremists can be reasoned with!"

 _Obi-Wan I have missed you so! You wait 'til I get my hands on you!_

Both of them proceeded to advance toward the other, their hearts dancing in their chests and their frowning faces straining to contain the smiles and laughter within.

 _Shall we dance again, My Lady?_

"Perhaps...," he taunted, his eyes hungrily locking with hers, "if one can be heard over the clanking of their battle droids!"

 _But I hear_ your _voice quite fine, Master Jedi._ The Duchess purred in her head.

"The sarcasm of a soldier," she smirked.

 _Ah,_ the Jedi Master raised an eyebrow, _but I am a lover as much I am a fighter!_

"The delusion of a dreamer!"

In a way it was certainly like a fevered dream for them.

They were all but nose-to-nose.

Their gazes intense.

Their breaths heavy.

Their little retinue—save for Anakin who was biting his lip in a sad attempt to stop sniggering—might have thought that the two would have come to blows.

But there was a _different_ kind of physicality they had in their minds at that very moment.

* * *

 _I should have just arranged for another dinner for two..._ Satine thought regrettably.

Their eyes locked—blue-on-blue—communicating unspoken hopes and dreams spawned both from innocence and long-concealed desire.

A battle, if not a veritable war of wills.

Winner take all.

Obi-Wan's hands were sweaty and trembling, fighting the urge to sweep the stunning blonde in front of him off her feet and into his embrace...

 _I want you..._

Satine's fingers itched to run themselves through that rugged beard and that chiselled jaw—to feel and grasp and scratch his warm skin...

 _Come at me!_

Their lips were closed and tight...unwilling—but failing—to unleash the supernovae of passion that lay within their power...

Such was their art of war.

"Duchess, Master Jedi...it's been a long trip," Senator Merrik said rather sheepishly, unwittingly causing the raging battle to once again pop just like a soap bubble, "I think we could all use a little rest and refreshment."

Neither of them noticed the amused and expectant expression on Anakin Skywalker's face.

 _POLITICIANS!_ Both of them thought in indignation.

"Hear, hear!" boomed the massive Twi'lek, "Now let us put politics aside until after dinner!"

Their moment was gone, but they were still there.

Mentally, both of them sighed in exasperation.

 _All is fair in love and war..._

She cocked an eyebrow at him, _After dinner then?_

 _Certainly my dear,_ his smoldering gaze said.

"FINE!" they both cried out at the same time.

Without warning, the Jedi Master was shoved aside by a soft, slender hand and the Duchess was already storming toward the door.

His gaze followed her as she did, oblivious to the stares of the crowd.

Though his eyes wore a hard expression...

 _I love you too, Satine._

 _..._ his heart was content.

For now.


End file.
